


Both Native and Stranger

by tofty



Category: The Foundling - Georgette Heyer
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-02
Updated: 2006-12-02
Packaged: 2017-10-15 09:40:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/159504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tofty/pseuds/tofty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gilly gets a new life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Both Native and Stranger

Gideon was only just beginning to address the huge plate of bacon-and-eggs in front of him when Wragby appeared in the kitchen doorway. "His Grace come to see you, sir -- will you meet him in the sitting room?"

"No, Wragby. Show him into the kitchen. Those who pay calls at the crack of dawn must not expect royal treatment, eh? He can visit while I eat; it will do him no harm." So saying, Gideon tucked back into his meal, and when Gilly crossed the threshold, was forced to shake hands in silence as he chewed.

"Breakfast, Adolphus?" he asked, as soon as he was able.

"No, I thank you," Gilly replied with a half-laughing, half-distasteful look at Gideon's heaped plate. "Do you imagine that my people would allow me to leave Sale House all unbreakfasted?" He sat down and poured himself a cup of the strong black tea.

"Oh, I can imagine they scramble to allow you to do anything you damned well please, now you've become such a tyrant."

"No, indeed! Do you think it is so? I assure you, I am obliged to set them all down quite fiercely at least twice a day, even now I am a married man."

"No, no, give me some credit, I beg of you. What you do is this: you listen patiently to all their exhortations and cossetings, and as soon as they stop for breath, you persuade them with positively Machiavellian sweetness that your will must not be thwarted. You see, I know you, Gilly."

"Ah, well," Gilly replied demurely, "one does one's best."

Gideon barked with laughter, then took another bite and a sip of ale as his cousin watched. "I expect you have a reason other than a burning desire to see me to bring you here so early on your very first morning back in town?"

"What, may I not have a burning desire to see you, cousin?"

"Of course you may, little one," replied Gideon, his eyes boring into the Duke's until the Duke's eyes fell to the table, "but I do not think you do. You are a busy man these days, I know, and I must play a small role in your life now."

Gilly lifted his eyes to meet Gideon's again. "You must not think so, Gideon! It seems that events are conspiring against my wishes to keep my best-loved ones close to me. I did -- do -- wish to see you most especially, you know, always."

"Oh, yes," said Gideon, with a mouse-trap smile very different from his more usual easy-going one, "I know." He paused to eye Gilly's blush with some disfavour before saying, "but come now. I'm sure that you do have a specific reason for meeting me here this morning, when we are promised for lunch at White's not three hours hence."

"Well--yes, in fact, I do." Gilly fumbled in his coat and withdrew a flat package from an inner pocket. "I wanted to return this to you where it was convenient, for one thing. I've had it for too long -- I'm afraid that in all the excitement of last year, I'd forgotten completely about it."

Gideon took the package and untied the string to find a slender volume. Squinting at the title, he laughed. " _Frankenstein_! Why, I'd forgotten I'd ever lent this to you! Do you mean to say you've had it all this time?"

"Not all this time, no." Gilly's smile was rueful. "It seems Tom Mamble relieved me of it when we were traveling together without my ever noticing, and it wasn't till he visited Sale Park last month that he admitted his crime and returned it to me with the greatest of thanks. By the by," he added, "it seems that this is the best, most cracking book Tom has ever read, and when he heard that the book belonged to you, why, it only made you more a hero in his eyes than ever."

"I am sorry to hear that, Adolphus! Are you never to be shed of that horrible brat?"

"I should think not. But then, one gets used to having him about; he livens Sale Park up considerably. I own do not like to think of him all grown up and not getting into abominable scrapes."

"From which you must then extract him."

"From which I must then extract him," agreed the Duke with a smile.

"At any rate, I'll not believe that his latest visit did not provide you with at least one more tale to tell. I demand that you tell it to me at once." And by the time Gilly had finished telling the tale of the tied-together chickens, and the tale of the burning straw-man, and the tale of the dairyman's daughter, Gideon had laughed his way through breakfast, and the two men retired to the sitting-room together.

"Where is Wragby?" asked Gilly in some surprise, looking about the sitting room as though he expected to find him bivouacked in the window-boxes. "I do not hear him in the bedroom, and he's not in the kitchen…"

"I imagine, dear cousin, that he has discreetly allowed us our privacy so that you can tell me your news -- the true reason you're here so early." Gideon pushed a jacket off the sofa and sat down, and Gilly sat heavily beside him, again blushing in a most revealing fashion.

"You've heard, then. I wanted to tell you myself, in person."

"Yes, little one, I've heard. My father wrote two weeks ago."

"Did he! When I most earnestly asked him not to!"

"Well, it is hardly surprising, is it, that he ignored your express wishes?" Gideon smiled and clapped Gilly's shoulder. "I'm happy for you, you young idiot! Did you think I wouldn't be?"

"No, you are the best of cousins. I knew you would wish me happy, and mean it."

"Then why all this hesitation?"

"I suppose because -- because once I tell you, it is real in a way it wasn't before. It's different from the wedding, even. It means something has ended, and things will never be the same."

"Poor Adolphus!" Gideon said with that unfamiliar disquieting smile. "Blue-devilled? Tired of your new life already?"

"No, that's not it at all. If you only knew how much more pleasant things are now that my people will listen at least sometimes, and now that Harriet can take my part in an argument--"

"Oh, yes, I imagine she's quite the lioness on your behalf."

"Well, she is," Gilly replied.

"I meant that most sincerely, cousin. I've no doubt that your wishes must come first in Harriet's eyes, and that she will fight to make certain they are heard."

"Yes. Harriet is the best of good fellows as well! I only wish--" Gilly leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, looking more like a schoolboy than ever. "I don't know. I _am_ blue-devilled, Gideon. I suppose I wish that taking all this on, much as I love it, didn't mean I had to leave some things behind."

"You want everything, I suppose." Gideon's voice was gentle as he stroked Gilly's back. "Harriet, and me. Your dignities. Your son or daughter, in a few months' time."

Gilly turned his head quickly, and there was a fierce spark in his ordinarily gentle eyes. "Yes! I do, damn it! And I--I don't see why I ought not have it." He leaned in impetuously close to Gideon, who leaned away.

"Of course you do, Gilly."

Gilly sighed. "Of course I do. I do, truly. I own, though, that I wish it were otherwise."

Gideon stroked Gilly's back again. "So do I, little one." This time, when Gilly leaned forward, Gideon did not lean back -- but he would not allow the kiss to go on too long, and stood suddenly, leaving Gilly looking absurdly pale and forlorn on the sofa.

"Come now! There is much to celebrate, Cousin. You have an heir on the way, and it is the beginning of your first London Season as a married man. Just think! No matchmaking mamas to dog your every step! No Romsey, for that matter, to do the same. No Belper."

Gilly laughed, the color coming back into his face a little. "Very true! And whole houses full of servants who'll take great care that we shall all live to be three hundred years old, and who are learning to listen to me! And lunch at White's in just a little while!"

"And my father retiring to the house in Somersby!"

"Yes, and the dairyman's daughter all unscathed, thank the lord." They both laughed.

"And a whole lifetime of love to look forward to, I swear. From all of us."

"Yes." Gilly's smile was the more beautiful for being tinged with sadness. "I know. And my love back, to all." He stood, and took his leave thoughtfully. "Thank you, Gideon. I swear I don't deserve you."

"None of that, if you please. Ridiculous!" He shoved Gilly toward the door.

Captain Ware's own crooked smile remained firmly in place as he shut the door after his cousin. He listened quietly to Gilly's footsteps as they faded to the ground floor, and it was only when he was sure the Duke had left the building altogether that he swept everything off the mahogany table onto the floor, the smile completely erased from his face.


End file.
